“Where do I go to remember you now”
In a frustrated poem I wrote
When I saw the trees mowed down that day
On that most painful road
I may not return to that country drive
To remember him for years
But last year I made in my own yard
A home for my undrying tears
A garden of beautiful wildflowers
Tamed by my shovel and hoe
Round the tree stump that he cut for me
To remember is where I go
I may sit for only minutes
Or stare as the hour runs by
That garden round the tree stump
Is where I spend my time
When there is not a grave to grieve
Our heart can still find a home
To dwell, to heal, to come to terms
When we find ourselves alone
So if you need a spot to dwell
There will always be a space
Just go to where you shared life
And you will find it in that place
© Ruby Neumann
Poet's Note:
Last year I dug out the ground around the stump that remained from my crabapple tree that was cut down in 2014, thanks to my nephew. That stump and the surrounding garden has become a place to remember him. I needed something that could grow and be a reminder of him. Something that still had life. This was it. The stump may be dead, but there is life all around it.
